AMA
by corneroffandom
Summary: The Boys find comfort in Dalton's Q&A


Brandon sighs, watching as Brent casts a quick glance around. In the time that's passed since Brandon's minor surgery, they'd slowly gained some leeway from Silas. Not a lot, but a little. He gives them _some_ space now. Especially while Brandon heals. It's not much, but it's enough for a little online time. Time to look at Dalton's twitter account, see what he's been saying. Watching back clips from ROH to see what he has to say about their forced separation. No one knows about the contracts, not even Silas or Bruiser. It's the only thing the Boys have left to hold onto.

"C'mon," he breathes out, snuggling close to his brother before pulling his phone out. The house is quiet, except for the typical creaks and groans of it settling as temperatures cool. They lay side by side, Brandon's eyes gleaming in the soft glow of Brent's phone as he accesses reddit and finds Dalton's AMA from earlier in the day. They read carefully through his answers, hungry for his charm and his sense of humor, though each typed word is clearly tinged with loneliness and sadness. They glance at each other, eyes a bit wet and lips pursed as they fight to keep quiet, not eager for Bruiser or Silas to figure out that they've been awake late into the night, using the phone that they'd hidden at the start of all of this to access the internet to keep track of things that were truly important.

Brent scrolls to the end of the thread, then back up, he and Brandon mouthing their favorite questions and answers, biting their knuckles to keep from laughing. Or crying, especially when Dalton had vowed to regain his Boys when someone had asked him about them and Silas. Their eyes are wet, lips twitching with bittersweet emotions, when they finally put the phone down, hiding it under the blanket just in case. "I miss him," Brandon chokes out, Brent nodding as he tries to soothe his brother.

"I know," he sighs. "I do too. But we'll be home soon, brother. Maybe, maybe we can get Dalton to play Pokemon TCG with us when we're back by his side then." Brandon's eyes light up and Brent grins at him.

"Home," he sighs. "I hope it's soon." Brent's eyes soften as he tucks his brother closer, breathing softly. As hard as all of this has been for him, it has to be so much worse for Brandon, especially considering his need for surgery and having to recover _here_ in this drab, disgusting place with Silas not accepting any show of weakness or discomfort following the procedure.

"Yes," Brent murmurs. "Home. Where Dalton will take care of us and we can wander with the pet peacocks, enjoying fresh air and beautiful surroundings. Not this stale cabin and back-breaking work." He yearns for Dalton's touch, the look on his face when he thinks they're not looking, how soft he speaks to them when things are going wrong. It makes being his furniture so worth it, how it feels to support and brace such a beautiful, graceful man, giving him a place to sit and rest after all of the weight of the world becomes too much for him and ordinary furniture is not what he's looking for. Because sometimes Dalton needs the closeness of human touch too...

Brent closes his eyes and tries not to dwell too much on how he misses Dalton's warmth sprawled out across his back, pressed against his side. Finds the phone tangled up in the blanket and accesses his text messages. _I miss you,_ he types slowly, listening for any movement in the house. _Your touch, the feel of you resting against my chest, along my back. Knowing that I'm one of the rare people you trust to always support you and keep you from falling. Brandon and I can't wait to be home with you again._

He sends it and then he deletes every sign of it ever existing. Dalton never answers his texts, probably afraid that the ring tone would go off- even though Brent's had it muted for so very long by now- and risk everything they've done up to this point. He can picture Dalton sleeping listlessly, tossing and turning from one cold spot where a Boy used to be to the other. It hurts so hard to envision that he can barely breathe, so he accesses his text screen again. _I love you._ _Good night._


End file.
